“There are two of us,” I answer. “From what I can tell, I think we’ve stopped between the fourth and fifth floors.”
I glance to Maria to see her shifting uncomfortably. I can’t even imagine how hot she must be right now with as pregnant as she is.
“Are you both okay?”
“Yes. But the other passenger is pregnant, and it’s starting to get pretty warm in here. We’re going to need to get some water soon, at the very least.”
Now, I’m regretting finishing off that bottle of water and granola bar I had stashed in my backpack on the plane. Maria certainly could’ve used it right now.
“Understood,” the dispatcher responds, and the faint sounds of fingers over a keyboard fill my ears. “Just hold tight, and we’ll get you out of there as quick as we can. Half of Manhattan is blacked out right now, though, so prepare yourself to settle in for a bit.”
Great. I’m not sure I should repeat that part out loud.
“Okay, thanks.”
I hang up the phone and turn to an eager-for-good-news Maria. Her face nearly makes me laugh, it’s so comedically desperate.
I try to break it to her gently. “The good news is, they know we’re in here, and they’re coming to help.”
Her eyebrows immediately draw together with skepticism. “And the bad news?”
I shrug calmly. “This isn’t the only building with elevators with similar issues.”
“Ha-ha-ha,” she laughs, a firm edge of hysteria creeping in as she spins to the corner of the elevator and tries to gather herself. “Did they…did they happen to mention where we are on the list?”
I wince. “I’m afraid not.”
“Well, great. That’s great.”
“It’s going to be fine, Maria. I promise. We have each other to shoot the shit with, and for my part, I’m pretty sure I could have ended up in an elevator with a lot worse choices.”
She almost smiles at the compliment and then seems to remember the situation all over again.
“I’m supposed to meet a client upstairs in five minutes.”
Ah, I see. That’s why she’s here, in Ty’s apartment complex. For real estate purposes.
A while back, I’d heard through the grapevine that Maria and her sister Isabella had started a real estate firm. And it’s possible that I’ve kind of kept an eye on The Baros Group’s success over the years. It was no surprise to me that they’ve grown to be an incredibly prosperous firm in New York. Maria always was a go-getter.
“If they’re in the building, they know the power is off,” I attempt to reassure her. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Uh, no.” She scoffs. “Not this client. This client only understands that time is money.”
I grin. “Do they actually use that phrase with you? Time is money?”
“Only once a day.”
“How obnoxious.”
“Oh, Remy. You have no idea. I work with some of the most insufferable people in the city. Mrs. Clemmons is just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Patricia Clemmons?” I ask, my interest piqued.
“Yes…” Her eyes narrow in surprise. “How did you know?”
“I’ve done some investments for her and her husband. She called my assistant a half-wit for calling before nine a.m. one day.”
“Oh my God, yes! Ten to four, Maria,” she mocks in a voice that is spot-on Patricia. “Anyone with class knows those are the only acceptable hours if you have any human decency.”
“Oh man, I hope she buys a place in this building and makes Ty’s life a living hell.” I laugh, and Maria feigns a pout.
“Poor Ty.”
“Nah. Poor Ty’s doing just fine with his life. That’s why I’m here, actually. I’m delivering the ring he’s waiting on to propose.”
“What? Ty Winslow is proposing?” she squeals excitedly. “As in, he’s going to get married?”
“Yep.” I nod slowly. “Hard to believe, but he found someone who can tolerate his ass. I’m sure he’s hysterical right now, waiting for me.”
“That’s crazy. Almost unbelievable,” she responds with a shake of her head. “Oh hey, did you happen to park in the garage?”
The abrupt change in conversation makes me furrow my brow. Of all the things to ask me about, she’s wondering about the garage of this random building?
“Uh…no, but I had the cab driver drop me off there because traffic by the main entrance was crazy. I’d only gone up one floor in this elevator when you got on at street level.”
“How are the spaces? Big or compact only?”
“Wait…” I feel my mouth curve slightly as I look at her with a tilt of my head. “Are you…using me for realty questions right now?”
“Mrs. Clemmons!” she snaps, as though that’s the only explanation I need. And truth be told, it is. That woman is basically a caricature of a human.
“Maria,” I say her name with feigned disappointment. “I’m wounded.”
“You’re not wounded.” She scoffs. “You’re perfect.”
Her cheeks turn bright red immediately, and her head bows toward the floor as everything inside me lights up. Maria freaking Baros. I cannot believe I’ve gone this many years without thinking about how amazingly earnest she always was—especially when she didn’t want to be. Her nerves always made the words just fall right out of her mouth. Fuck. I always loved that about her.